Flowers In The Dark and Spiked Drinks
by Falling Heaven
Summary: The graduation party for the seventh years is missing two key people. Harry and Draco. On a terrace they talk about metaphoric night flowers and drink spiked punch. What happens between the two's discussion when their inhibitions are lowered? HPDM. For th


**Flower's in the Dark (and Spiked Drinks)**

A/N: I don't own any characters or places in this story, I have just manipulated them. They belong to the magnificent J K Rowling.

**-The Start-**

Harry twisted a goblet in his hand as he leant against the railing and gazed up at the night sky. The rich blue was rapidly darkening to a much deeper, almost black one. The sun had already sunk and only a slight orange halo proved it was still fighting for control. Silver stars sparkled and winked into existence and stared down at him. The thin slice of moon hadn't yet been uncovered.

It was relatively dark on the balcony he was standing on but the glow from the light inside allowed him to see enough. It wouldn't have mattered had it been pitch dark, though. He was only out there to think or ignore everything. He was leaning towards the latter. He didn't want to think about why he was at the party in one of Hogwarts largest rooms. He didn't want to think of the upcoming graduation. He didn't want to think about after graduation. He didn't know what was going to happen to him then. He was scared of it. He was scared that he would have no purpose.

A chill wind was blowing, ruffling his already uncontrollable hair, and pushing his robes against his body, creating a nice outline. It made him shiver but he would not allow the cold to force him inside where cheery faces and celebrating people awaited. Harry would stay out as long as he could. With his will power, that might be awhile.

Light footsteps sounded behind him but he didn't turn. He didn't care to know immediately who it was. They weren't as important as contemplating his bleak-looking future. The person joined him at the ledge and placed their hands on it.

"Hell, Potter, it's cold out," Draco Malfoy commented idly, glancing at the other man. Harry just shrugged, not wanting to disturb the quiet. Malfoy shook his head but consented to the peace. Peace was the reason, after all, he had come out anyway. He hadn't expected anyone else to dare the cold June night. No one else was that stupid.

Then again, Potter had always surprised him with how fool-headed his actions were. He was always jumping into things without fully realizing what the situation entailed. He probably hadn't even known it was cold out. Sending a look in Potter's direction affirmed that Harry hadn't thought about the weather. He was wearing his thin, rich violet dress robe. He was shivering bad, as well. Stupid Gryffindor, Draco thought, couldn't even grab a cloak.

Turning his attention to other things, Draco calmly thought about the coming day. He, along with the other seventh years, would be graduating. A large majority would be graduating with a hangover or after having taken a hangover potion. He chuckled softly, shaking his head ruefully. He really should be in there with his friends, getting as smashed as he could. It really would be one of the last time he would be able to do so. He had his training to focus on. Whatever training he chose to pursue. He still wasn't sure on that matter. He wasn't into politics like his father, and his father would definitely not allow him to be an auror. Maybe he would become an Unspeakable. That would certainly be fun. And he always had wondered what went on with those people.

Harry heard Draco's laughter and had to turn to stare at him. It wasn't all the time anyone got to hear a Malfoy laugh. Draco's was sweet and whimsical, with a hint of roughness to it. It wasn't an over baring guffaw that was so deep it tried to drown you, but it wasn't an incessant twitter, so high it made you sick and want to pop your eardrums so you didn't have to hear it. It was so free it almost didn't seem to suit the stuck-up twit. Yet it did so remarkably good. It made your spirits lift just listening to it.

Turning his head, Harry studied Draco's profile. He had high cheek bones that tapered into modest cheeks, pushed out into pink, thin, but pouty, lips and finally jutted out into a defiant chin. The nose was aristocratic, courtesy of his ancestry, his eyes were almond shaped though slightly slanted. They had such a colour, that Harry really couldn't place it. They were silvery but at the same time seemed a bright blue. It was like he had blue eyes covered by a silver glaze. The were amazing things, really, a mystery. Harry wondered how they could possibly be that colour naturally but it didn't seem likely he changed them, magically or muggley. He was to proud of his Malfoy looks to do that.

Framing his gorgeous face was the blond hair all the girls envied or wished to caress. It wasn't quite as white as Harry had thought, but it certainly passed any other blond in existence. The tresses waved softly at his eyes, bringing the focus on them. They waved again at the chin before they were shaggily cut off. Though that should have made a wilder look, it made Harry think of a waterfall hitting rocks. He didn't know why, but it did.

"Beauties that no one would know about because no one would come to see them in the night. If only they realized things born in darkness can be as good as anything born in the day." Malfoy's voice pierced the silence like an arrow. It startled Harry, who had been intent in his observations.

"What . . .?" Harry's face was a picture of confusion. What was Draco on about?

One long hand motioned to where the other was cradling one of the night-blooms. The flower was held so delicately, as if at any moment it could wither and break. Malfoy was right, though. It was beautiful. Small pink petals curved into an almost heart-like shape, fading to white at the edges. A patch of purple ones was next to those, and white beside them. If Harry remembered correctly, blue ones were somewhere on the terrace. They lined the whole thing and grew up it's sides.

"You're right." he couldn't help but agree. Draco snapped his gaze up to meet Harry's deep green eyes. He hadn't noticed he had spoken out loud. Those odd awe-inspiring eyes were guarded and cautious, as if something important might leak out. Then it hit Harry that Malfoy wasn't only on about flowers opening in the night, he was talking about his own life.

Growing up with a Death Eater for a father probably had put a damper on things. No one would trust him, the majority of the world would not go near him. He would be treated with disdain. And no one would give him a chance. No one would bother to learn if Draco truly hated what is father did, or if he agreed with it. The populace wouldn't let him make his own name, because he was shadowed by his father's.

His life must have sucked, Harry thought with a pang of empathy.

Harry hadn't suffered exactly the same thing (unless you count Snape) but he still had the ire of his family, the Dursley's, and the wizarding world had judged him by something he had no control over. They really were in the same boat, or in similar ones.

Draco finally looked away. He had seen the understanding in Potter's eyes. Had seen that Potter wasn't condemning him, wasn't thinking he was insane.

He let out a troubled, long-withheld sigh. Just saying that one little sentence, although by accident, had helped him immensely. A stone had shifted in Draco's person. He felt like he could finally drop some pretenses, gain a freedom that he so needed.

"We both have never led easy lives, have we, Potter?" he asked blankly. His hands were toying loosely with his cloak now, the flower forgotten.

"No, Malfoy, I suppose we haven't." Harry answered philosophically.

"Though, I was considerably more well off then you. What with having to live with _muggles,_" - he spit the word like it had a bad taste - "and everything. And I had money and lots of it. Always I had everything I desired." Draco smirked just like he always had. His posture straightened remarkably from where it had been slouched, his shoulders drew back into a proud stance.

"Hmm," Harry shrugged. "That stuff never bothered me any. I did wish they would just remember my birthday one year and get me something nice. That never happened and I was rather silly to think it would." He looked angry at himself for a moment, as if he was annoyed he could have been so naive.

"How come? Were you a naughty kid? I _knew_ you couldn't have been all good!" Draco may have been acting like a jerk with that one, but he was still curious. He was glad Harry overlooked it and answered,

"No," Harry shook his head and grimaced. "They didn't like me because of my 'freak' tenancies. I had no clue about magic until I was eleven. I was lied to all my life. I wasn't even able to ask questions about my parents."

Draco's smirk was now gone. His face looked hard. "A wizard should always be aware he is a wizard." he recited. "Those _muggles_ must have been horrible."

"They were," Harry agreed. He was agreeing with Malfoy a lot lately.

"Well, I still have one up on you, then." Draco decided, his smirk in place. "I was _always_ around magic."

"Whether it was Dark or not didn't matter, right?" Harry asked snidely.

"I wouldn't talk about that if I were you, Potter! You know nothing about what went on in my family!" Draco shouted. His face was contorted in a rage so fierce Harry backed up and adverted his eyes.

He opened his eyes to say something, but Malfoy interrupted, not finished with his tirade yet.

"Shut up! If you knew the good things my mother used to do with her magic, the things that made me laugh and smile and forget the bad things, you'd be speechless with how nice it was! If you knew all the terrible things I was subjected to witness, you would be so afraid you wouldn't dare speak of it! So just shut up!" Draco's breathing was ragged and his face red. He was so uncomposed that Harry suddenly wished he had never said anything. He had not meant to anger the man. Now he didn't know what to do.

"Draco," he stepped hesitantly forward and placed a hand on the wizards arm. "I- I'm sorry I said that. I didn't have any right." Draco looked up at him with such strong emotions that he once again avoided his eyes.

"Yes . .well, you are one for sticking your foot in your mouth." he smiled. Harry looked back at him. He smiled, uncertainly.

"And you, for being a right prat. But I guess we both have our reasons." Closing his eyes for a second, he swallowed back an onslaught of emotions. He really needed a drink. He looked on the ledge for his goblet but found it oddly missing. Seamus had spiked all the honey-mead with whiskey! He needed that drink! Where was it!

Gulping got his attention. Draco had Harry's goblet to his lips and he was drinking every bit that was in it.

"Hey!" Harry shot out and took it from him but it was too late. The precious drink was already gone. "Why'd you drink that for?" he demanded, sending a narrowed glare at Malfoy.

Malfoy shrugged. "I was thirsty." he replied simply.

"You are such a . . ."

"Right prat?" Draco supplied, lifting a curved eyebrow. "I believe you've said that once."

Harry growled. "Arse. I was gonna drink that." he stated, staring petulantly into the empty glass.

"Too, late. I beat you to it."

"And you couldn't go back inside?"

"No. That thought didn't cross my mind." Draco looked thoughtful. "Why don't you just summon another?"

"I don't . . . have my wand with me." Harry knew he was giving draco the perfect opportunity to attack him, but he hoped their new found . . . _something_ would prevent that.

"Honestly, Potter." Draco shook his head. He didn't know if he was amused about the chagrined look upon the face or the fact that Harry had _forgotten_ his wand. Either way, he summoned a house elf to him with the drink on a tray. "Thanks," he muttered and the elf popped away. He held the steaming goblet to Harry. "Here."

Harry reached out to grab it but Draco pulled it back and started to drink it again. "Draco!"

A wry look was shot his way. "What? I did summon it." Harry growled as Draco took another gulp. Draco decided on a game.

Magic lettering shimmered on the air. 'If you want it so bad, come and get it.'

"You drank it," Harry stated, annoyed at the childishness.

'Nope. It's still there.' Malfoy lifted the glass to his mouth, taking a little more for what he had swallowed by accident.

"Where is it, Malfoy?" Harry asked. What was Draco doing now?

'In my mouth.' the blandness of the words allowed Harry to picture exactly the way Draco would have said it.

"I'm not going in your mouth to get my drink." he said, hoping that would sway the prat.

'I summoned it.' the letters stated again. 'But if you don't want it . . .' Malfoy raised the goblet to his lips again but before he got it there, Harry attacked him. He dropped the goblet to the ground.

Harry didn't think. He was, for some odd reason, desperate to get that drink from Malfoy at any costs. So when the liquid was about to be drained off and swallowed, he did the only thing he could think off. He crushed his lips to Draco's tightly, hoping he could somehow get a tight lock with them yet get Malfoy to open his mouth and empty the drink into his own.

It didn't seem likely, but he didn't think with rational thoughts. All he wanted was that drink. And if he was serious with himself, he probably wanted Draco's lips slightly, as well.

They responded to the kiss well and Draco didn't manage to loose any of the drink as Harry sucked on his lower lip, nibbled it and circled his mouth with a very talented tongue. Nerve endings were sizzling wildly at every place their bodies connected. Harry grabbed Draco's neck, holding him to him. Draco, ready to give the liquid back, took Harry's cheek in his hands and dipped him slowly to the side. He slowly, methodically, nudged Harry's mouth open so it stayed open. He carefully opened his own and let the now warm drink to slide passed his mouth and into the one below him.

Harry knew what Draco was going to do. He compliantly let Draco position him. He felt the plush lips open, felt the liquid splash into his mouth. It was mixed with saliva and was warm, but it still tasted good. Actually it was heavenly. It had Draco's taste to an alcoholic drink. It was a heady solution.

Slowly rasing Harry, Draco felt his tongue dance around the other mouth, asking for admittance, getting it granted and then partnering with Harry's. It didn't last long, but it was electrifying. He wouldn't have been surprised had his hair been standing straight up. It would have been much more straighter then he was, apparently.

"Um," was all either of them could get out. Their breathing was running as rampid as their hearts and thoughts. Some alcohol was drying on their chins and they wiped it off before it stuck.

Minutes after they had calmed down they still stood close to each other, looking into the other's eyes. They really didn't know what to say or what they should say.

Harry was the one to break it. "You know, for a prat, you taste good with honey-mead and whiskey." he grinned.

Draco grinned back. "You aren't so bad yourself, Potter." Their grins disappeared slowly.

They were quiet for a few more minutes before they looked at each other mischievously. Smiles returned to them, wider then before. "What are we here for? Honey-mead whiskey, here we come!" They looked for all the world like it was a life or death mission as they left the balcony and entered into the bright room.

Behind them, at the bottom of the terrace, a trail of golden liquid lead to the corner where the goblet had finally stopped and had pooled onto a pale white, heart-shaped night flower, still slightly green at the middle.

**-The End-**

**This was posted for the 2500 Snitch-A-Thon on The Silver Snitch. Anyway, Please review! - Destiny's Illusions**


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